


I Like To Use Bible Quotes But I'm Not Sure There's An Appropriate One Handy

by ialpiriel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen, His Dark Materials - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:30:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ialpiriel/pseuds/ialpiriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean Winchester both work at Jordan college - Sam as a history teacher, Dean as a handyman. Castiel comes through in a performing troop, and everyone is a little bit surprised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Like To Use Bible Quotes But I'm Not Sure There's An Appropriate One Handy

**Author's Note:**

> I drew a thing for this and [posted it on my tumblr.](http://dilemmasovernothing.tumblr.com/post/65154742764/hello-friends-i-drew-these-things-based-on-a-post)  
> This got too long to be posted along with it.

Dean elbowed Sam in the ribs. "That's one of the performers, right? With the angel names?"

"Yeah, pretty sure that is. Don't know which."

Dean grinned.

"He's got a motherfuckin' swan for a daemon. Think he can swim?"

"You are not dumping a visitor in the canal, Dean."

"Never said I was." Dean grinned wider.

"I want nothing to do wit hit." Sam held up his hands and sighed. His daemon - a boxer dog, big and orange and as friendly as they came - settled closer to his leg.

"Even if you wanted to, I wouldn't let you," she told him.

"Thanks for the reassurance."

"Dean, whatever you're planning-" Dean daemon, who was perched on the back of his chair, beak perilously close to his ear, warned

"Won't hurt him a bit, just a little fun. Besides, he's got a swan daemon, do you think he hasn't been teased about her before?"

"What are you planning?" Both daemons and Sam asked at the same time. Dean just grinned.

\- - - 

Anthousa had settled onto the table in the library, and was keeping watch on the door. Castiel was watching the others browsing through the shelves.

"There's someone coming toward you, Castiel, Eagle daemon, big, looks about as friendly as a cactus."

"Him or her?"

"Her. He's all smiles and swagger."

"Thank you, Anthousa. How ready are you to fight an eagle if it comes to that?"

"I'm bigger, it should be no trouble."

"Thank you."

The man swaggered up and sat next to Castiel. The eagle on his shoulder hopped off and settled on the back of his chair.

"You're one of the performers, aren't you?"

"I am, yes."

"My name is Dean Winchester, what's yours?"

"Castiel Marlowe."

"That's an awfully English name for an American."

"Yours is an awfully American name for a resident of Jordan college."

"Touche." Dean smiled and held out his hand. Castiel took it and shook it once. Dean didn't let go."So what do you do?"

"I'm a knife thrower and weapons exhibitionist." Castiel jerked his hand away. Anthousa puffed her wings out and snapped her beak once. The eagle on the back of Dean's chair shifted uncomfortably. "We'll be putting on a performance tomorrow night if you wish to see us."

"Why not a demonstration now?" Dean asked. He leaned in closer, and Castiel made a point to stand up. He glared down at Dean. The eagle nipped Dean's ear, and he flinched.

"Because my job is to perform, and there will be a demonstration tomorrow night at seven o'clock for any and all interested parties. I find you personally detestable, and I make it a point to make an attempt to like everybody I meet. You've really made a name for yourself."

Castiel turned on his heel and walked to the next table over, where he sat down with his back to Dean. Anthousa flapped off the table and waddled over to Castiel. She flapped into his lap, and he sighed and stroked her neck.

"His daemon is coming over," Anthousa warned. "You may want to lean forward." Castiel did so, and he felt the breeze from wings against the back of his neck.

"I apologize for Dean," the eagle said. "We tried to talk him out of it, but he's intractable."

"As I've seen.," Castiel replied. Anthousa nipped his thumb and he scowled at her.

"Castiel is too," Anthousa replied. "May I ask your name?"

"Sostrate. And yours?"

"Anthousa. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I need to be going, unfortunately. Dean needs to go and lick his wounds."

"Of course." Sostrate lifted off the back of Castiel's chair and returned to Dean's shoulder. Castiel didn't watch her, though Anthousa did.

"Was that really necessary?" Castiel asked Anthousa as soon as he was sure they had left.

"Yes," she replied. "Anna needs help getting a book down, go help her."

\- - - 

"That's quite the rejection," Sam laughed. He hand Dean were huddled on a bench in one corner of campus, close to the canal. Sostrate was perched in the tree above their heads, and Sam's daemon lay over his feet.

"Shut up, Sam. He basically invited me to the performance tomorrow. Have you seen all the performers? There are six of them with swan daemons, and that's just not normal. in fact, that's weird."

"Someone probably gathered them together. That seems most likely."

"They're going to go practice out on the back square later tonight. Figured I'd go watch."

"Who told you they were?"

"Ben did. And Krissy. And a couple of the other kids. Underscholars have been kicking them out all day. There's the wall there, though, and I guess the kids are going to go and watch there. I figured I would be adult supervision for them."

"They're going to murder you."

"Not if I don't bother them."

Dean grinned, and Sam sighed.

"I won't let him get into too much trouble," Sostrate reassured Sam from her branch. "I'll drag him away myself if I have to."

"Thanks, I've got a class in an hour, so don't get into any trouble while I'm away. We don't need a repeat of last time."

"That was an extenuating circumstance!" Dean complained. "Won't happen again!"

"Yeah right." Sam's daemon rolled off his feet, and he stood up. He bent to scratch her ears, and she hauled herself to her feet. "Come on, Zenaida, time to keep rowdy underscholars in line."

"Have fun!" Dean called after his brother.

\- - - 

Dean found himself the last to arrive at the wall. The children - college children, town children, and nomad children alike - had already taken the best spots along the wall, so he climbed into one of the trees. He could see fairly well, most of the leaves had already fallen, but none of the performers had begun yet. They were still setting things up, or passing around a big glass bottle and a huge plate of potatoes and beef, or watching the proceedings from one of the corners of the yard.

"You!" one of the performers - a short nearly-blond man - yelled at Dean. "Get down here and help! We could use a few more muscles around here."

All the children turned to look at Dean, who shrugged and dropped onto the wall. He hopped down into the yard. Sostrate circled above his head.

"Go help Castiel get the target set up."

"Castiel?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"Yeah. Dark hair, pretty tall, looks permanently pissed. Swan daemon. Over by the wagon, you can't miss him."

"Uh, yeah. Okay." Dean trotted over to the wagon while the children hooted and screamed encouragement and insults.

Sostrate landed next to one of the swan daemons who was settled on the ground by the wagon wheel. Dean rounded the back corner and was greeted by Castiel and two others, all three shirtless and drenched in sweat despite the frigid temperatures.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Castiel demanded.

"Guy out there told me to come help you unload the target or something."

"We're doing fine without you," Castiel replied. He scowled.

"You know this guy?" one of the other men - the older one, with the blond hair that was beginning to verge over into gray-brown - asked, looking between Castiel and Dean. he was smirking.

"He's the one who approached me in the library earlier."

"Oh ,so that was you." The other man - dark haired, with a weirdly angular face - laughed. "Cas told us all about you. he's not impressed."

"Look, I'll do my job and then leave. I was just trying to be friendly."

"You were getting a little too friendly," Castiel muttered, and heaved on the huge wooden target. The other two men put their shoulders against it. It began to move forward, and Dean grabbed on and pulled with them, despite the dirty looks he got from all three. It inched out of the wagon a little faster.

When they had gotten it out onto the ground, it turned out t had wheels on the bottom, and Castiel and the other two men pushed it quickly away from Dean.

"hey you, muscles, Castiel is gonna need someone to throw sharp stuff at during practice. You up to it?"

"He gonna kill me?" Dean asked.

"No," Sostrate replied. "His job is to keep you alive. that's the whole point of knife throwing and weapons demonstrations. Make it look like he can kill you, and then not do it."

"See? Your daemon's got the right idea. You in? put on a show for the kiddies?"

"Make sure he doesn't kill me, and I'm in. For the kids. Need some good entertainment and all."

"Great!" A possum trundled over, climbed up his pants leg, and settled herself on his shoulder.

"Castiel, we've got you a willing victim. Muscles here will be your target practice," Possum Man yelled to Castiel

"Great. I'm sure he'll be delightful!" Castiel yelled back. "Get your muscly ass over here and we can get started."

Dean wandered over to the target and looked at it. Behind him, Castiel buckled on another belt, this one bristling with knives. Both their daemons flew over and settled onto the ground next to the target.

"Strip down to your undershirt. An audience likes a show. Half-naked attractive men are one. Don't complain, just strip."

Dean scowled, but did as he was ordered. The other performers began to circle around, all of them laughing and smiling, most of them mumbling to their neighbors in some language Dean didn't recognize.

He shivered as he unbuttoned his shirt.

'How the hell do you stand not wearing a shirt? It's freezing out here."

"Made of tougher stuff than you, I guess," Castiel replied. "Now get up on that box, and I'll start throwing."

Dean stepped up onto the box and looked at the small crowd of performers who had gathered. They were all watching intently, and he was very suddenly very self-conscious.  
"Stand just like that," Castiel reassured him. "Don't move if you don't absolutely have to." Dean closed his eyes and tried to breathe.  
Dean felt the first knife brush through his hair and stick in the wood just above his head. The children on the wall screamed and hooted.  
"That was awfully close."  
"That's my job, Dean. get the knives as close to the target as possible." Three more knives thunked into the wood in quick succession, all around Dean face. He thought he might have felt one graze his cheek, but he didn't feel any blood running down his face, so he figured he was intact. "hey Dean, would you like to know a fact about swans?"  
"Why should I?"  
"I heard about what you said to your brother this morning, and Anthousa and I were not amused. Would you like to hear a fact about swans?"  
"Yeah, go ahead."  
Dean felt the knife thunk into the wood between his legs, pinning his pants in place. His breathing froze.  
"Swans have been known to break bones when threatened, Mr. Winchester. Perhaps you should reassess your beliefs about me."  
Castiel strode forward and leaned up so their noses almost touched.  
"It might do you well."  
Castiel pulled the knife from between Dean's legs.  
"You'll need to get your pants darned, Mr. Winchester. I believe we have people around who could do it for you, should you be unable to do it yourself."  
Castiel smiled, and all Dean could see in it was malice.


End file.
